


but you have broken down my defences, and i don’t really resent it

by neopunch (caihongs)



Category: NCT (Band)
Genre: Angst, Angst with a Happy Ending, Childhood Friends, Domestic Fluff, Inspired by Taylor Swift, Mentioned Jeon Heejin, Mentioned Kim Jiwoo | Chuu, Nonbinary Character, Not Beta Read, Pining, Sad Lee Jeno, Trans Character, Trans Huang Ren Jun, Trans Lee Jeno, Unrequited Love, see if you can catch all the references!
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-01-11
Updated: 2021-01-11
Packaged: 2021-03-15 18:48:55
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,978
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28693485
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/caihongs/pseuds/neopunch
Summary: Mark had always been Jeno’s one, something intangible anchoring Jeno to Mark’s existence and God if Jeno wasn’t such a damned sucker for him, they would say to themself that they’d do anything in the world to sever it.
Relationships: Lee Jeno/Mark Lee
Comments: 3
Kudos: 23





	but you have broken down my defences, and i don’t really resent it

**Author's Note:**

  * For [smartlove](https://archiveofourown.org/users/smartlove/gifts).



> happy belated birthday my darling sweet light of my life <3 this comes to you fashionably late because i'm a little gremlin with no sense of time management but it's here! i even listened to taylor swift post-1989 for you, that's just how much i adore you. you've taught me so much and bring me so much joy all the time i couldn't put it into proper words so here's this 6.9k fic! happy birthday my love, you deserve the world.
> 
> \- ur little hay
> 
> "Damn you, spoilt creature; I shan’t make you love me any the more by giving myself away like this —But oh my dear, I can’t be clever and stand-offish with you: I love you too much for that. Too truly." - Vita Sackville-West, The Letters of Vita Sackville-West and Virginia Woolf

Before the adoption papers, before the shared home, before the ‘let’s-spend-the-rest-of-lives-together’, Jeno had always been truly, madly, deeply, _inextricably_ in love with Mark. Much like how every other unrequited love story goes, it’s a sickening amount of yearning and watching someone who you’ve known since you were a child, grazed knees and snotty noses, fall in love and out and swearing to yourself that you’ll always be by their side through it all, even if it hurts more than it should. Jeno had been a stout little thing with eyes too big for their face and Mark was their _hyung_ who knew how to play the guitar with his tiny hands that were the same size as Jeno’s, and liked sitting out on the porch and watching the rain, earphones in and battered iPod by his side. There was no beginning to loving Mark, for it seemed he grew on you and suddenly stitched himself right into the seam of your existence. If you asked Jeno when it all began, they would never be able to give you a solid answer, only instances in which Jeno could feel themself falling as they knew it.

If Jeno was a miserable little thing yearning for their best friend, you should have seen them in high school. Jeno being a national sprinter, standing now at 5’10 with perfect proportions and beautiful lashes to go with their pretty eyes that fit their face perfectly, and cherished member of the school community for being somewhat of a good looker didn’t give them the ego boost they needed to up and confess to Mark, captain of the basketball team and by default, the resident heartthrob that they’d been in love since time immemorial. In fact, it made them that much more emotional, torn, a walking ‘don’t hmu, only real ones know’ Snapchat story, who dedicated their life to avoiding the problem and all of his significant others in the five years they spent together at school.

Jeno had become a professional bystander, so involved and yet very much detached from Mark’s life, with the intent of distancing themself enough for it not to hurt so bad anymore. To remove themself from the one who’d held them out on that same porch he used to watch the rain on, and told them that he’d love them through it all. The one who’d been there and amended Jeno’s awful hack job of a haircut in Year 5 while they were sobbing in front of the mirror. The one who had taught them how to strum the strings, hands over their own and pressing into chords that Jeno would remember for the rest of their sorry life. The one who had been there when Renjun told Jeno in tears that they’d broken her heart by leading her on for the better part of a year, and while Jeno was left stunned and unable to reconcile one of their friendships that they’d thought would last for forever, Mark had been the one who told them that they were going to be okay. No matter what, it was them against the world and if Renjun didn’t want to hear Jeno’s side, nevertheless their apology for not realising the gravity of their actions, for which in eighth grade, was incredibly significant, then so be it. Good riddance if you will, Mark had said, standoffish for someone who also considered Renjun a good friend of his, and Jeno couldn’t help but crack a smile despite it all. 

  
  


Mark had always been Jeno’s one, something intangible anchoring Jeno to Mark’s existence and God if Jeno wasn’t such a damned sucker for him, they would say to themself that they’d do anything in the world to sever it. 

  
  


Jeno was a bystander, and it seems their life was simply divided up by Mark’s respective partners throughout high school and out into college.

  
  


There was Heejin, whom Mark had been smitten with since she sang a Frank Ocean song at their school talent show and Jeno could not bring themself to hate her no matter how hard they tried. Try detesting an angel incarnate with a killer sense of humour and always ruffled Jeno’s hair and called them their favourite person irrespective of her boyfriend who would only shake his head but more or less agree. She made herself Jeno’s best friend the moment she started dating Mark and it seemed like she was it for Mark. They would look at each other with crystals for irises and Mark was always thinking about her even if he never said it. She was his first and his greatest, Jeno thinks to this day, even as they parted ways when they realised they ultimately never had time for each other, nor made the time for each other, revealing the crux of the issue in the end. And yet, Heejin would still run up to Jeno in the corridor and envelop them in a bear hug for no reason than to greet her best friend and ask about their day on the way to English. 

Then there was Donghyuck. Someone Jeno only knew tangentially through Renjun, who by this time, found it in herself to make amends with Jeno, who’d only ever wanted their chem lab partner and fellow EXO-L back, and well—Donghyuck was loud, fun, fresh, and nothing like Jeno. Mark was positively enamoured, much like he was with Heejin but Donghyuck was different. He didn’t _not_ like Jeno, but didn’t make his indifference to Mark’s friends unknown to the public. They hung out when Jeno wasn’t there and never when they were. Donghyuck would offer them a small wave and smile in the corridor but that was that. Truth be told, Donghyuck was a likeable guy, but the fact that it was even more evident that Jeno wasn’t Mark’s number one priority now that he was in the picture—it didn’t make Jeno feel any better about their onus of a crush on Mark. Jeno could stomach most things but when Donghyuck comes barging into Mark’s room while Jeno is there, studying for their history final next week, tears streaming down his face and suggesting silently to Jeno that they should leave with this frankly pathetic attempt of a dirty look, they’d never felt so out-of-place in Mark’s life ever. Sure a couple should sort out their shit privately but God, had he ever thought about texting first? This was a minor gripe from Jeno that eventually resulted in Mark pleading with Donghyuck to explain to him why he wanted to break up, within the walls of Mark’s room that Jeno was still privy to hearing since he hadn’t even made it out of the house yet.

  
  


Safe to say, Donghyuck does not wave to them the day after or ever again. 

  
  


And still, despite Jeno’s pretty evident attempt at staying away from Mark, post-Donghyuck accelerating that, whether it was refusing all calls to hang out, staying back to practise in lieu of walking home with Mark, practically anything they used to do and Jeno refusing, Mark in turn, refused to let go, and maybe, just maybe, Jeno was never strong enough to stay away for good. 

  
  


It’s relishing in the attention that Mark gave them, all bright smiles and his hand on their neck, squeezing with practised ease, and his arm constantly slung around their shoulder as if it didn’t bring more than just physical weight down on them. Jeno hates the way they’ve been conditioned to react to Mark, curving into his side like they were made to, when there is so much out there for them. So many more people out there who would love them back the way they’ve always wanted Mark too.

  
  


“Hey Jen?”

  
  


The field has never felt emptier, their graduation gowns littered with grass stains as they lay starfished out under the sky.

  
  


“Mm?” Jeno knows they’ll see each other even after school ends. Even after all this time, Jeno hasn’t found it with their resolve to let go of Mark. Under the skies, shades of blue, purple, and pink blurring in a kaleidoscope that Jeno can’t tear their eyes away from, despite the beautiful boy that lays beside them, they wonder if they’ll ever be able to live without it. Pain as a companion, as incredibly despondent as it sounds, is not such a bad thing Jeno thinks. If it means Mark, in all his incessant laughter, sparkling eyes, calloused fingers around Jeno’s shoulders and on their neck, then maybe it’s not too bad after all.

  
  


“I just wanted—fuck, I know today isn’t the end, but thank you for everything. Couldn’t have done it without you.” Mark shifts to look at them and Jeno is so weak when they finally catch Mark’s eyes. Like liquid galaxy and swirling ink to match, they’ve always told more than Mark could ever put into words.

  
  


“Back at you _hyung_.” Jeno musters out and can’t help but smile when Mark snorts.

  
  


“Couldn’t even spare me your own gratitude speech?” 

  
  


“Like you said, today isn’t the end.” _I have eternity to tell you how much you mean to me._ Mark chuckles, and raises his brow.

  
  


“Touché, touché.” Mark is still looking at them and Jeno hopes they aren’t looking at him the way they always do. Like they’re in love and there’s no way Mark Lee _didn’t_ put the stars in the sky in all his godly glory. Dorky Mark Lee and the way he always makes Jeno feel like they’re worth more than what they are. Or something like that. 

  
  


“Wanna grab food? I’m craving Maccas,” Mark says after a beat and Jeno nods vigorously, wanting to get out of this compromising position (them lying on the grass face to face with the love of their pathetic life) as soon as possible but before Jeno can up and leave, Mark holds their wrist down.

  
  


“Before our sappy moment is over, I just wanted to tell you that—”

  
  


Jeno is getting antsy. What else does Mark have to say to them? If it’s ‘hey Jen, I want to be with you for the rest of our sorry lives but very much platonically!’ Jeno might just tear their hair out of their scalp.

  
  


“Just having you with me all this time, makes me feel better you know? Thank you for the past thirteen years, knucklehead.”

  
  


Jeno does want to tear their hair out, very much so. Choosing that term of endearment amongst the others that Mark has deigned them over the period of that friendship was also a poor choice but they’d rather not think about it.

  
  


“Puke. Thank you for showering me with your gratitude, now can we eat?” Jeno plays it off as if it’s nothing—like it could ever be _nothing_ with Mark—and Mark laughs sweet and hauls Jeno up by the hand.

  
  


“Alright I’ll spare you Jen. Just wait till we graduate from uni.” 

  
  


They walk to Mark’s ‘soccer mum’ car, a seven-seater he has no business driving, and Jeno duly ignores the gnawing feeling at their stomach over the belated realisation that Mark will always make himself a permanent existence in their life, and it’s always going to be Jeno’s fault for letting him.

  
  


Come university, Jeno and Mark still seeing each other on a regular basis and Jeno still being unable to rid themself of this long-term burden, Renjun telling them they’re an idiot on a daily basis all the while pining over Dejun Xiao in the theatre department, and Jeno making friends with someone who’ll end up being Mark’s next girlfriend. 

Jiwoo is so nice. She’s great, wonderful, another angel incarnate, and someone who Jeno found themself excited to meet in class and outside of class too. Sure, they’d never thought of her in a romantic way, for Jeno was plagued with an inability to love anyone else that wasn’t 5’9 and liked Justin Bieber’s music unironically, and Jiwoo had had a girlfriend at the time that Jeno met her.

Jiwoo and said girlfriend break up, Jiwoo acts less affected than she actually is, so Jeno does what Jeno knows best and invites her out to hang out with them and their friends. Sure enough, as the curse goes, Mark sees her and almost keels. Jeno watches it all fall together in the end, and the consequence is always seeing Mark at the height of happiness while they’re anything but.

They deserve each other, he thinks at the time, and while Donghyuck had been the worst of them all, he wasn’t all that bad. Compared to Jiwoo, Donghyuck at least had the gall to tell Mark that he was somewhat of a rebound. 

Jiwoo, having been unable to get over the fact that Jungeun had left her, relished in Mark’s attention like it was the blood of the Gods, glowing gold and warm to the touch. Tipping point came sooner than expected, where clear liquid, a relationship that could still stand on its own, shifts red with a drop too many of a lie here, a late night there, an unanswered call to top it off. Finals were beginning the next day and yet Mark was worried over the fact that Jiwoo hadn’t texted him back after a fight, and Jeno was here again, watching them crumble in real-time. Half-blaming themself for introducing them in the first place when they knew she wasn’t in a good space, though not expecting anything more to come out of it that wasn’t a good night and some newly-fledged friendships, and half-astounded that Jiwoo would actively pursue another relationship with Mark, someone she’d only met once before diving into something so taxing on both of their mental thresholds. There was Mark who was unable to give Jiwoo anything that wasn’t temporary happiness, and Jiwoo tugging him along like the blind leading the blind.

  
  


It leaves Jeno with a sobbing Mark and a broken relationship in their weak hands. However, Jeno has grown stronger, considerably so. Not quite as insecure as before, now confident in their capacity and intelligence, still fit as hell, and most importantly, grown enough to do something about their chronic pain.

  
  


“ _Hyung_ , I think—I think we need to take a break.” 

  
  


Mark stares at them with bloodshot eyes, slumped over Jeno and Jaemin’s couch and cradling a bag of chips from the Korean store.

  
  


“What?”

  
  


Jeno breathes through it. If today was the day to break the chain that had Jeno falling back-first into the ocean, then so be it. 

  
  


It wouldn’t be the end of them, but the end of something Jeno knew couldn’t wait any longer. Twelve years seemed like the breaking point for Jeno, all hope for hope crushed by Mark falling in love with someone else like a recurring nightmare that comes true in terrifying reality, high-definition and torment that doesn’t ebb even when the credits roll in.

  
  


“I’ve always been there for you Mark, but I think I need to take some time for myself.” It doesn’t come out in shuddery breaths like Jeno thought it would.

  
  


“What—what are you saying Jen? Are you getting _tired_ of me?” Mark’s voice grows in volume like it does confusion, bewildered that Jeno would say something like this.

  
  


“I’ll never grow tired of you Mark. I—I just can’t stand seeing you get hurt time and time again.” _I can’t stand being the person you’ll never grow tired of but that you’ll never love._ Mark is tipsy, having drunk before he rocked up at Jeno’s dorm unannounced, but the way his eyes grow bigger in realisation, taking cautious steps towards Jeno, makes Jeno feel like throwing up.

  
  


“Jeno—I,” he pauses, picking his words carefully. Jeno waits patiently, the hem of their shirt ripping softly in their fingertips.

  
  


“I’m sorry that I never asked how you were before I came to you, I swear I am, but does that mean—” His lips quiver and Jeno will not stay long enough to see him cry. Not today.

  
  


“I’ll always be your best friend Mark. Nothing will change that. But when—when your best friend is hurt, sometimes it hurts you more that you can’t fix them up like you used to.” 

  
  


_Because you need someone else to fill the void you’re lacking even when I’m here._

  
  


Mark is still confused, shown in the lines that crease on his forehead and the way he’s nervous about the way he moves about Jeno in their home.

  
  


“Can you leave? Please.” 

  
  


All is not always fair in love and war. Sometimes it’s unfair because even if nobody wins, there is always a bigger loser and love is not enough to mend their wounds that have been left wide open for a long, long time.

  
  


Mark leaves without saying a word and Jeno cries at the doorstep. 

  
  


To be the one in broken love, it’s not always terrible. Jeno gets back on their feet and life resumes as normal sans the object of their love and affection, and Mark, well. Jeno doesn’t hear much about him that isn’t from Jaemin’s minimal commentary on their latest dinner hangout or group assignment, and Jeno doesn’t ask. Though Jaemin tells them more than they need to ask, because Jaemin always knows that Jeno is thinking about him whether they want to or not.

  
  


To be the one in broken love, is sometimes just as terrible as it sounds. Jeno is sad, and doesn’t do much with their free time because everything they were even inclined to pick up or continue reminds them of eyes that held more than just stars and black hair fanned out against their bedsheets after a long night out. They’d always share their fleeting goals and interests with Mark, only for Mark to actually encourage them eagerly and Jeno to jot them down in their journal for a rainy day. So there was no escaping it when Jeno had wanted to learn pottery but was violently reminded that they promised to start classes with Mark, or wanting to start gaining more muscle and losing body fat versus just their normal night runs and telling Mark that they should work out together with that ‘bring-a-friend’ gym membership deal going around. 

  
  


Alas, it comes out when Jeno has had too much to drink, and in vino fucking veritas, it comes out like a broken dam.

  
  


“Mark? Hey, it’s Renjun. Long time no talk, I know. I just need you to come pick up Jeno. Jaemin’s not in town and they’re wasted.” 

  
  


Mark stumbles into the restaurant and Renjun hands off Jeno like they’re a pile of dirty laundry. 

  
  


“They won’t stop talking about you Mark.” A cursory look. Jeno slumps over his body and Mark hoists them up with his arms before he utters a soft thank you to Renjun, who doesn’t spare him another glance and goes on to pick up her bag and leave. 

  
  


“Let’s go home, alright?” Mark whispers and Jeno lets out an incoherent string of words that he chuckles at.

  
  


They’re in a dress Mark hasn’t seen before, and Jeno, despite looking rougher than usual, is still as beautiful as they’ve always been. Long legs accentuated by the length of the dress, paired with a pair of sneakers and an oversized pullover that Mark does recognise, they look… good.

  
  


Mark hasn’t seen Jeno in so long, and though they can’t quite make proper sentences and Mark can’t ask them all the questions he’s been dying to ask since they first took their break, he relishes in what he can. The drive back to Jeno’s dorm is relatively quiet, only Mark’s music playing softly in the background while Jeno rolls around restlessly in the passenger seat, mumbling to themself.

He manages to wrangle Jeno’s keys from their bag, but before he can put Jeno to bed, Jeno pulls him close.

  
  


“ _Hyung,_ is that you?” Raspy voice and eyes still closed, Mark’s breath hitches.

  
  


“Yeah it is Jen. You doing okay?” 

  
  


“Good. Now that you’re here.” Jeno has the gall to beam as if they weren’t the one that called the break in the first place, but Mark isn’t here about that. 

  
  


“I’m going to leave a glass of water and Panadol next to you alright? There’s a plastic bag here too if you need it, mm?” Mark whispers, brushing Jeno’s hair away from their face, and before he can bring his hand back, Jeno keeps it there.

  
  


“I miss you _hyung_. I—I don’t want to be apart anymore,” Jeno blinks up at Mark, hand still on top of his, and Mark gets back on his knees to see them eye to eye.

  
  


“We don’t have to be, okay?” For a moment, Mark is brought back to his front porch, Jeno sewn onto his side and always grinning at him with their tiny teeth. Their hands intertwined at the park and Jeno giving him the bigger part of the sweet bread and listening eagerly to Mark like his stories were always interesting when they really weren’t. How they were there to hold him when he had his heart stomped all over and the one time they couldn’t. 

  
  


They’d always been together and never not. So this break, whatever Jeno called it, it soothes Mark in some sick and twisted way because now he knows that they were just as affected. In some sick and twisted way, it makes Mark feel comforted that someone so independent needs someone like Mark, who is everything but independent. Always needing someone to tend to his bruises and never able to find someone willing to do that forever. Until Jeno that is.

  
  


Mark did his best to rid Jeno of all of their makeup but they’re close enough that he can still see flecks of gold on the tips of their eyelashes. Jeno blinks again at him, and closes their eyes.

  
  
  


“You know—I bought this dress for you.” 

  
  


Mark stills. Jeno doesn’t open their eyes.

  
  


“Bought it so you could take it off.” 

  
  


Mark doesn’t think before he slips out of Jeno’s room, out the door and onto the street. 

Doesn’t think when he drives home, not when he goes to bed, not when he’s lying there and trying hard not to imagine Jeno’s eyes, hair, the way their lips curl when they smile, not the fact that Jeno has always been there and when they weren’t, Mark had to find his way back to what life was before he could show up at Jeno’s door and know he’d be welcomed in. 

But there was never a before, because Jeno was always there whether he asked or not. ‘Always’ is the ticket Mark held in between his fingertips until you couldn’t read the letters anymore but you knew what it said anyway. Tied to his existence is Jeno Lee and their inability to say no until someone comes up to them with enough heartbreak to fill a coffin and there comes a breaking point. Perhaps it’s when the fulcrum crumbles underneath the weight of an almost-two-decade friendship and both sides have to deal with the consequences. Mark is the side of see-saw with more emotional baggage than he cares to admit, and maybe it’s because he tends to drifts towards the emotionally-unavailable, like Jaehyun who couldn’t give Mark what he wanted in overwhelming amounts like he wanted but couldn’t ask for, Kunhang, who Mark had inadvertently strung along post-Jaehyun and couldn’t commit to even if he tried. Like Jiwoo, who couldn’t even spare him the audacity to tell him that she didn’t love him at all.

  
  


Jeno doesn’t want him like that. They can’t. Mark is not—

  
  


Long lines, gold-speckled cheeks, and a crescent-shaped smile that he craves like a drug plague him all night.

  
  
  


Jeno doesn’t remember how they made it to bed, assumes Renjun somehow hauled their ass home and shoots her a quick text to say thanks, chugs the water and the tablet before sorting out whatever shit they needed to post-exams. Nights out are not always Jeno’s scene but they think they deserved it after the hellscape that was exams week and Renjun is no one but Jeno’s number one enabler. They don’t remember anything happening after, or anything _regrettable_ that is, so they consider that a night well spent. 

  
  


**_mark_ **

_hey jen, can we talk?_

  
  


Well, apparently not. 

  
  


Their first mode of action is to call Renjun.

  
  


“What’s up, prick?” 

  
  


“Why did Mark text me with a ‘can we talk?’!” Jeno shrieks into the phone and Renjun hisses down the line.

  
  


“How would I know?!” 

  
  


“Maybe because you were with me last night?!” Jeno is frantic when they’re stressed, pacing up and down the floor of their bedroom while Renjun moans in response.

  
  


“God, you’re loud. Okay, so maybe I asked him to take you home last night because you were off your face and Dejun lives in the opposite direction of you.” Jeno thinks they might faint. “But you were talking about him all night so I did what I thought was best!” Renjun says indignantly and Jeno whines into their bedsheets.

  
  


“You’re the worst. I don’t remember what I did or said but it can’t have been good.” 

  
  


“The damage has been done. Thank me if it goes well and don’t call me if it doesn’t. Okay? I love you, Jeno. Good night.” She ends the call and leaves Jeno staring at their phone in both disdain and fear.

  
  


**_jeno_ **

_hey. if it’s about anything i said_

_last night i’m so sorry i swear i_

_didn’t mean it._

  
  


**_mark_ **

_are you sure?_

  
  


Jeno doesn’t even know what they could’ve said. What they _might’ve_ said about Mark or to Mark. Incriminating them of their long-harboured infatuation and love for their best friend? Most likely. So, yes they’re _sure_. Whatever Mark means by that.

  
  


**_jeno_ **

_yes? i’m sorry if i made you_

_uncomfortable in any way and_

_i swear it won’t happen again_

  
  


Mark doesn’t respond and Jeno would be lying if it didn’t feel like a stake to the heart.

  
  


Is this the official end to them? Jeno had never specified exactly when they’d feel comfortable seeing Mark regularly, more or less back to how much they used to see him, and well. Mark had never contested, never asked for specifics or why or… anything really. It’d been Jeno’s way or the highway in Jeno’s head but they failed to consider that Mark would never argue with Jeno anyway. 

  
  


If this is it, Jeno didn’t register just how hollow they’d feel. 

  
  


The day goes by in a blur and Jeno can barely get around on their two feet without wanting to collapse out of fatigue and pure upset. At themself, at Mark for no reason other than being someone Jeno will never be able to forgive themself for falling in love with.

  
  


Will they be satisfied knowing they were the reason for the permanent destruction of the one friendship that they’d cherished with everything they had? Even if it was the primary cause of all this pain in the first place? Jeno hadn’t thought this through at all, clearly. Hadn’t thought hard enough about this despite the overwhelming gravity it had on both them and Mark, but this is not affecting them like it was supposed to. It isn’t lifting a weight off them that had pressed indents into their spine in the shape of a guitarist’s hands, nor the metal bars caging in on their chest. 

  
  


Jeno doesn’t call anyone, not even Jaemin who knows more about their history with Mark than Renjun, despite the latter having been there for the greater portion of it. Considering Renjun’s care for Jeno being shown in tough love, something Jeno knows doesn’t work for them emotionally in regards to the matters of something as fickle and touchy to them as love, they’d always drifted to Jaemin for help. Warm words paired with warm arms was always the best provisional salve for Jeno.

  
  


Instead, they mope around for the next two days, running every single night, cleaning like it was their only programmed function, and catching up on all the novels left to gather dust on their shelf. They tire themself like this but it does nothing to quell the ache that envelops them whole.

And yet, as if the Gods were laughing at them, for being so foolish and believing they could ever escape, the invisible string tying them to Mark withstands it all.

  
  


Jaemin comes home with bags and bags of homecooked food, enough to feed them for the next three weeks give or take a week if Renjun comes over with Dejun. He doesn’t ask about Jeno apart from telling them that they haven’t been eating enough and promptly warming everything up for a huge feast for one. Just when Jaemin begins to clear the dishes _as well_ and Jeno scrambling after him to stop him and get to him to go rest after his long trip, the bell rings.

  
  


“Who is it?” Jaemin bellows, in the middle of wrangling the plate from Jeno’s iron grip and a voice drifts through the door slit.

  
  


“It’s Mark. Is Jeno home?” Gritty, sounding like he just woke up. Jeno stills, their blood freezing over and Jaemin mouths, _I can tell him to go_ but Jeno, ever the self-sacrificing, shakes their head.

  
  


“Jaem?” Jaemin looks at Jeno again. Jeno nods and Jaemin stares at them for a moment more before putting the plate down.

  
  


“One minute!” 

  
  


Jaemin shuffles to the door while Jeno stands in the same spot and they see Jaemin murmur something in the gap of the door and the hallway.

  
  


“...Okay, alright. Come in.” 

  
  


And unsurprisingly, Jeno doesn’t predict this either.

  
  


Mark, red-eyed, as if Jeno left him in the same state as they did on the couch when they first mentioned the break, and his hands folded on top each other, fingers wringing nervously. 

  
  


Jeno has never seen him this scared before.

  
  


Jaemin switches his gaze to both Mark and Jeno before he ultimately signals with his phone in his hand to call him, and slips out the door, shutting it behind him.

And then it’s just Mark and Jeno. 

  
  


“ _Hyung_.” It’s not supposed to be a question, just a statement. A call for him after so long. It’s only been two months, merely anything in comparison to the length of their relationship, but upon seeing him, Jeno’s bones feels like they’ve been tapped with the back of a knife and broken on impact.

  
  


“Jen.” A call back equally as broken.

  
  


“Jeno I—” Silence. Mark halts, unable to convey his message as they stand like strangers in the confines of this house. 

  
  


Jeno has no idea what they did, nor what they said, to have driven Mark to this state. Maybe they underestimate their own effect on others, but God do they feel like they’ve committed a sin to the highest degree. Mark doesn’t deserve to look like this. Especially not because of them.

  
  


“I’m sorry, I don’t—I don’t _remember_ what I did that night but I’m sorry—” 

  
  


“Jeno, did you mean it?” Mark asks, sincerely, his hands falling to his sides and eyes, those eclipses for irises, staring at them.

  
  


“Did you buy that dress for me?”

  
  


Jeno breathes through it. Mark chases after their words like he’s expecting the same ones he’s thinking about to come falling out, in a moment of forced vulnerability. Like Jeno wasn’t drunk when they bought that slinky thing, inebriated with the thought of Mark loving them like they’d always wanted him to, like Renjun didn’t tell them to return it the day after because of that reason alone.

  
  


“Mark, I—”

  
  


“No Jeno, because I’ve been thinking about that night and every other night that it was me who brought my broken pieces back to you and never you, and Jeno—” Mark is unnervingly quiet when he’s upset and Jeno can’t let themself break like this.

  
  


“I did, Mark. I bought so you would tell me how pretty I was, how you would like me that night, how you would love me when all I’ve ever done is love you. Mark, tell me that you’ve ever thought of me like that.”

  
  


For all the money in the world, Jeno cannot put a name to the face that Mark puts on when he pretends that Jeno is wrong.

  
  


“Jeno—”

  
  


“Mark, don’t _lie_ to me.” Jeno is determined not to break, not like this when Mark has the upper hand yet again, a reason to comfort Jeno and lull them into a sense of false security that they can still remain something after this.

  
  


“Jeno, I’m so sorry.” Like a spell incanted, Mark falls forward and holds Jeno like they’ll fall right through his hands.

  
  


“I’m sorry for hurting you.” Jeno can’t bring themself to move. 

  
  


“Mark.” A call out for someone they’ve loved before they knew exactly what the word love meant. 

  
  


“You don’t owe me anything. I’m sorry I didn’t tell you sooner.” _Like I should have. Like I should have when the first one came and all the ones after her._

  
  


“Jeno. What if I told you I wanted to love you back.” 

  
  


It’s not a question. It’s a suggestion that drives the stake further in and brands something else entirely other onto Jeno’s body.

  
  


“ _Hyung_ don’t hurt me like this.” Jeno is shaking underneath his hold, and Mark reels back.

  
  


“I can learn to. Jeno, all this time, you’ve— you’ve always been too good for me.”

  
  


Nothing is quite getting through to Jeno. All they hear is poison lined with hope so it passes down the throat easier.

  
  


Mark is so kind, he’d even try to love someone he could never imagine spending his life with if he thought it would make them happy. 

  
  


“Mark. Listen to me. I don’t want to hear it anymore. I don’t want you to pretend like you can love me like you did Jiwoo, like you did all the rest. It hurts so much not being that person for you even after all this time but I don’t want you to sacrifice yourself for something that won’t end well and for something that I’ll learn to get over. You can’t do that to yourself, and you can’t do that to me,” Jeno commands but Mark doesn’t heed like he’s supposed to. Even in the face of Jeno asking him to do something for them, for once, he doesn’t listen

  
  


“Can you tell me honestly if being with me will hurt you because you’re so determined that we’ll never be happy together?”

  
  


Jeno has never wanted to lie more in their life. How can they work when all Mark has ever wanted was never them? How can they be happy when all Mark has ever wanted was to make others happy at the dear price of himself? 

  
  


His hold is loose on Jeno, his touch barely there when Jeno finally looks up and meets his eyes. Always as shockingly bright despite it all. He isn’t nervous or scared at all. Of what, Jeno can’t even begin to think when the fear was always supposed to be harboured within _them_. He is asking Jeno if they’ll regret this.

  
  
  


“I’m not asking you out of pity as if I’ve ever believed myself worth that much. I’m asking you as a man who thinks he has the capacity to love you, has had the capacity since we were kids and you gave me everything in exchange for awful song recommendations and my heartbreak served with your silverware, and wants to start learning how to now.” 

  
  


Jeno doesn’t know how to say no to Mark. This is a fact.

  
  


“Mark, I’ve loved you for so long.” A beat. 

  
  


When the bystander becomes the active participant, it puts them in a whole new world of peril.

  
  


“I know, Jeno.” _Now I know_. 

  
  


Two people stand inside this living room. The seesaw is shifting precariously, and one side takes the plunge.

  
  


“And if it doesn’t work?” 

  
  


“Jeno, do you believe me when I say I’ve been learning to love you since we met?” 

  
  


Mark is an untrained liar, the most evident of his kind, and Jeno lets themself believe in this one just once. 

  
  


The tattoo of Mark’s existence on Jeno was always evident, dark lines swirling across the expanse of their back, marking every place where Mark has touched them. And as the world stops at a standstill for them, Jeno wonders when Mark will grow lines so pretty on his skin too.

  
  


Jaemin comes home when Mark leaves Jeno with one more press to his chest, arms wrapped around Jeno’s body before he lets go, and Jeno has no choice (they never had one, really) and tells Jaemin everything. From Heejin, who Jaemin had no clue about, to Jiwoo, in more detail than they’ve ever told anyone and Jaemin sits and chews on his bottom lip until it cracks.

  
  


“Jeno, you know I’ll love you for a long time. More than that stinking bastard at least,” Jaemin says fondly, and Jeno cracks their first smile in a while.

  
  


“I know.”

  
  


Jaemin doesn’t have a tell when he thinks you’ve done something wrong or right. He tells you, with words or without, that he trusts you.

So when Jeno finds it within themself to call Mark to see if he’d be free to hang out a few afternoons later, Jaemin holds their hand the entire time.

  
  


It takes a long time before they’re normal. Before Mark can stop asking Jeno for permission to hold their hand, or to squeeze their neck or to _touch_ them at all, before Jeno can stop thinking after every night that Mark is going to finally realise that Jeno isn’t what he wants, before they can stop fighting themselves to prevent themselves from hurting each other. 

They’re not good until they’re better. When Mark tells Jeno he loves them, he does it when Jeno is sleeping like a log after a long night out with Mark carrying them home and laughing every time Jeno called him adorable. He tells them a second time when they’re out trying out their first dance class with none other than Donghyuck as their teacher, and Jeno doesn’t hear him over the sound of Blackpink through the speakers. The third time, it’s when Jeno is doing their assignment on Mark’s bedroom floor and Mark looks at them upside down from his bed and says the words.

  
  


Jeno doesn’t cry like they thought they would. Instead, takes the opportunity to say,

  
  


“Took you long enough, knucklehead.”

  
  


And if Mark kisses them silly after that, well.

  
  


It sounds like a dream, and for the most part it is. And how they get here, Jeno ready to propose to the man they’ve looked at like the stars littered in that cloudy pink mist of a sky back home on top of that field, ready to parent a _child_ with, and spend forever, for better or worst with is well—long story short, Jeno chose to believe in Mark Lee’s first and last lie.

  
  


And on that porch, where Mark used to play Jeno old Bieber through his broken earphones while the rain came down on them, they’re going to have another set of ears with them, listening along.

  
  


—

Jeno is lying on their stomach on the couch when Mark comes home from the studio, their nose shoved in another novel and glasses pushed up to the top of their nose bridge. They don’t register the sound of the lock clicking open, Mark shucking off his shoes, nor the sound of the keys clattering on their marble dinner table, and Mark thinks it’s the prime opportunity to commit a crime.

  
  


“Boo.” Jeno leaps up from the couch and the top of their head knocks into Mark’s chin with a resounding clash of hard bone, and the collision has them both on the floor.

  
  


“Why did you put your head right on top of mine instead of in front?!” Jeno stares despondently at Mark, criticising his execution of the scare and not the scare itself while Mark only rubs at his chin ruefully in response. Jeno frowns at him and the sight of their book flung across the living room, before getting up and cradling Mark’s face, inspecting his chin closely.

  
  


“Are you alright?” Mark lifts up his head when Jeno leans even more forward and takes another prime opportunity to wrap his arms around Jeno.

  
  


“M fine, sorry for scaring you babe.” Mark murmurs into Jeno’s hair, petting the freshly-dyed blue fondly, as Jeno is forced to let go of Mark’s face and throw their arms around his neck.

  
  


“You’re good, just stupid.” Mark doesn’t even dispute that and goes for leaning his entire weight on Jeno’s body. The aftermath of sitting in a recording studio for eight hours with at most, a thirty minute toilet and lunch break creeps up on him like a slow wave of pain coming up and over the knobs of his back, and Jeno, the strong, muscly love of his life, lets Mark essentially flop onto them like laundry on a clothing rack.

  
  


“Shower, dinner, then sleep for you okay?” Jeno whispers into his ear and Mark grumbles in response. 

  
  


“We have to organise the—“ 

  
  


“Tomorrow. We can do it tomorrow.” Jeno doesn’t hesitate to scoop Mark into their arms bridal-style and strides into the ensuite. Mark lets out a garbled noise before letting himself curl up to Jeno, and his boyfriend snorts at the sight.

  
  


Mark has forgotten entirely about his birthday but remembers that they need to organise the adoption papers, in very typical Mark-Lee-style and so Jeno reminds themself, while setting up Mark’s dinner, to put the ring back in the closet for tomorrow.

**Author's Note:**

> [twt](https://twitter.com/renminsungs) \+ [cc](https://curiouscat.qa/jukevs) \+ my [dreamwidth](https://caihong.dreamwidth.org/3896.html) post!


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